by Wood, J N
It was a small tent, actually no. It was a fucking ridiculously tiny tent. I imagined there’d be more space in a coffin. I’d picked out another good sleeping bag, so I was at least warm, and I supposed that was the most important thing.
The GPS was still working on my phone, so I could kind of figure out where I’d ended up. I was surprised to find I’d been running in the right direction. Almost.
I spoke to myself out loud. ‘I think it’s about forty five miles from here to the west edge of the forests.’ Drawing my finger along the road on the map. ‘But that’s only the edge of the forest according to this map.’
I moved my finger on the map over to the east side of the forests, where it changed from a grey colour to green. ‘On the way in, I didn’t hit the snow until I was well into the green forest bit, so hopefully when I start going downhill, the snow will disappear before I reach the end of the forests. Then I can find another vehicle.’
I tried to calculate how long it would take for me to walk to the point where it changed from green to grey.
‘So, I can comfortably walk at four miles per hour for quite a long time. I wouldn’t call this comfortable walking terrain but let’s be optimistic for once Chris, and only knock it down to three miles per hour. That means if it is forty five miles, and that’s the worst case scenario, it will take me about fifteen hours. Fuck, that’s a lot of walking in snow.’
Worst case scenario Chris, worst case scenario, just remember that.
DAY TWELVE
Every time I’d been to a part of America that supposedly had bears, even if we were told we’d definitely see one, I was always left very disappointed. Park Rangers would say to me, Oh if you go to this part of the park, you will definitely see a bear. Six have already been spotted today.
I never saw a fucking bear.
There was definitely something making snuffling noises at the edges of my tent, and because mine is the smallest tent anyone has ever seen, it was snuffling at the edges of me. If we had been planning on actually coming to this part of America I would have done a bit of research into the area.
Did they even have bears here? Or was it a Mountain Lion? I had no fucking idea.
I did remember reading something about not keeping your food in the tent with you. I very carefully moved my head to look at two empty packets of crisps and a half eaten packet of beef jerky. They were only a few inches away from my face.
Bollocks.
I very slowly unzipped my sleeping bag. Once I was free, I placed my left hand on the zip that opened to the outside, and held my gun in my right. Then I remembered. I hadn’t reloaded the gun after last night, so I put that down, and pulled out the little axe from the side of my backpack.
My heart was thumping away. It was getting faster and faster by the second.
I started shouting as loudly as I could. ‘Arrrrggghhh! Bear! I’m coming out now! Arrrrggghhh!’
I pulled down on the zip, but the fucking thing got stuck. I dropped the axe and grabbed the top of the tent with my right hand, and tried to pull the zip down again.
I was still shouting at the top of my voice. ‘Arrrrggghhh! Wait a minute bear! I’m still gonna come out! Arrrrggghhh!’
The zip came unstuck, and I scrambled out of my tent, ready to make myself look as big as possible. I was halfway out when I saw a deer prancing away elegantly through the snow.
I was incredibly relieved, but also a little bit disappointed it wasn’t a bear.
It was really fucking cold outside but at least it wasn’t snowing. It was nice to hear the birds singing again. I didn’t think I’d heard them since we’d been in the Rockies.
I crawled back into my coffin tent to see what I had left to eat. In my haste I’d blindly picked up things. There hadn’t actually been much in the car. Spread out in front of me was three and a half packets of beef jerky, eight Hershey’s chocolate bars and three packets of crisps. I must have left the cheese sandwiches in the car. I was incredibly pissed off I hadn’t grabbed them. There was only two bottles of water left, so I’d have to go easy on them.
My baseball bat was also missing. I didn’t know if it was while I’d been running through the snow during my escape, or if I’d just left it in the car. Either way I was really annoyed. That bat had come in handy, and I felt like I was getting better with it. I’d have to find a replacement when I got the chance.
I spent a good fifteen minutes reloading the empty magazine from my gun, and just trying to familiarise myself with all the features.
Why didn’t Jack steal us some extra magazines, so we could reload it faster? He probably forgot to give me mine, and they were still in his bag.
I wondered if he’d seen the signs I’d left him. One of the things I couldn’t stop thinking about is why he wouldn’t come looking for me in Austin. If he was still alive he would have searched for me. So for that reason alone he must be dead. Although I did tell him I would run off to Canada if I got the chance. Surely he knew I was joking about that?
Of course he did, what am I talking about?
Fuck’s sake Chris, stop being so fucking pathetic.
The only good things I could say about my tent were it weighed very little, and was very quick to take down. I was sure I’d appreciate the first fact at the end of my long hike. Just a little bit more space would have been nice though.
It had only been four o’clock, so there was still plenty of daylight left. I decided there wouldn’t have been many people up here in the hills, so hopefully that meant there wouldn’t be many zombies. None at all would be very helpful. So for that reason I decided not to wait until nightfall.
I very briefly considered not looking for the road, and just walking across the countryside, but decided against it. The road would be the easiest route physically, and it would minimise the chances of me getting lost. One problem though, the racist duck hunters might still be on the road looking for me.
Fuck it. I’m gonna take the easy option and hope the duck fuckers have given up.
It took me over an hour to find the road, but that was only because I walked straight over it, without realising it was there. It wasn’t until I stepped on an ice covered river, that I realised I was going in the wrong direction. I had to use the blurry GPS on my phone again to pinpoint the location of the road. Once I was stood on it, and knew that it was definitely tarmac under the snow, it was pretty obvious that it was the roadway. I just had to follow the lines of trees.
Three miles per hour might have been a bit optimistic, walking in two foot and sometimes three foot deep snow was difficult.
If only I had some skis, and knew how to ski.
I still couldn’t believe I’d run through the snow last night for so long. It’s amazing what a bit of adrenaline can do for you. I was feeling it now though. My thighs were very sore, and having to lift my legs up high to get through the snow really wasn’t helping.
After trudging along the road for ten minutes, I spotted a bit of civilisation. I’d assumed there would be nothing up here in the hills. Nine or ten houses were on either side of the road, a couple of them could have been barns. The snow hadn’t been disturbed so it didn’t look like anyone had been coming and going.
I decided against investigating the homes and carried on.
About an hour later I almost screamed my thanks to the zombie swarms. I managed to hold in my screams of joy though. I say joy, but it was also mixed in with a lot of trepidation.
I’d been slowly walking around a bend with my head down, repeating a kind of mantra over and over again.
‘Lift right leg up, put right leg down, lift left leg up, put left leg down.’ And so on and so on.
Then I put my left foot down and the snow had gone, at least a lot of it had gone. There was still a thin compacted layer, but the almost waist high snow had vanished.
I stopped and looked around. As far as I could see to my left, and to my right, the snow had been cleared. Behind me I could see the path I’d made through
the deep layer, but it ended at a jagged three foot wall, where the snow had been carved away.
A swarm must have come through, but I couldn’t tell when. It could have been days ago, or ten minutes ago. I had a closer look at the floor and noticed the odd footprint here and there. They’d cut across my path from right to left.
Hopefully that meant they will keep going in that direction.
Actually, as long as they stayed ahead of me, I could follow them as they cleared out the snow. My very own snow plough.
The relief on my thighs from just walking normally almost made me feel like I was floating. Walking like this was so easy! I almost cried tears of joy a few minutes later, when in the distance, I spotted some more buildings. It was the wood panelled building that had the word café on the front that made me so happy. I started to run towards it, but common sense quickly returned before I barged through the front doors.
You’re still in the middle of a zombie apocalypse so don’t get carried away, just because you’ve seen a café.
I climbed the wooden steps that led up to the front porch, and peered in through one of the windows. I couldn’t see anything so I knocked on the window. Nothing appeared from out of the woodwork.
I pulled out my axe and approached the front door. It was locked so I had a quick look around. When I was as sure as I could be, that there weren’t any zombies about, I pulled my axe back slightly, and then banged it against the glass in the door.
The noise the glass made as it broke up and fell to the floor was terrifying. It felt like it was almost as loud as the fighter jets flying over us in the Rockies.
A flock of birds suddenly appeared from the trees and flew into the sky, making their high pitched calls. Increasing the already ridiculously high noise level.
Almost immediately, I fell to the floor and crawled behind a wooden bench.
I slowly peered over the top of the bench, certain I would see the swarm had changed direction and was coming back for me. I must have stayed in that position for a long time. I really hadn’t been ready for that amount of noise. Apart from the soft singing of birds, and my feet crunching through the snow, the last few hours had been incredibly quiet.
Eventually my heart rate dropped back down to something approaching normal. I’d just about accepted the fact that nothing was coming for me, so I made my way back to the front door. I carefully guided my hand through the broken shards of glass still in the frame, unlocked the door and entered the café.
Looking at the menu on the chalk board behind the counter, I thought I would have liked it here before the apocalypse. Everything looked really nice.
Even though that ridiculous amount of noise had not drawn anything out, I was still feeling apprehensive. The thought of those sandwiches abandoned in the car was almost making me salivate, driving me on to find food.
What was wrong with me? It wasn’t like I was starving to death. And cheese sandwiches? Surely I could have craved something a bit more appetising?
There were a lot of wine bottles on the shelves. I really wanted to take a few, but my common sense stepped in again and stopped me.
Fucking stupid common sense.
I took a few of the water bottles and yoghurts from the glass fronted fridge, and then walked towards a door I assumed would take me in to the kitchen. I’d assumed correctly, and headed straight for the huge fridge at the back of the room. I opened it up and the light didn’t come on, so I leaned in. It still felt cold. That didn’t mean a lot as it was cold everywhere around here. I tried to remember if the drinks fridge in the shop had a light.
Nope, can’t remember.
I found the light switches and flicked on all four of them. Nothing happened, so maybe that was it for the electricity. To be honest it didn’t affect me as much as I thought it would.
I definitely needed to get a new watch though.
I walked back to the fridge, and stared hungrily at the masses of cheese that filled the top shelf. It all still looked good, so I took a couple of the biggest wedges, then thought better of it, and took a couple of the slightly smaller wedges instead. There was a big selection of cooked meats, but I really didn’t want to risk it, even if they had been in a cold fridge for most of the time. I sliced up the only loaf of bread that didn’t have any mould on it, and buttered all the extra thick slices. I left one of the sandwiches out to eat now, and wrapped the rest in cling film.
My sandwich was delicious, so much better than the cheap ones I’d left in my car for the racist fuckers.
I hope they choked on them.
Just before leaving the café, I emptied one of the water bottles, and decanted half a bottle of pinot noir into it.
Fuck you common sense, I need a drink.
Back outside, I looked up to the next hill, and as far as I could tell, the snow had been cleared to at least there. So with a slightly fuller belly, and in a better mood, I set off along the road.
Two hours later, and it was just starting to get dark, but I was still travelling in the swarm’s path. The zombies had flattened the snow so much it was almost like walking on ice, causing me to fall on my arse at least ten times. Despite the many falls, I must have still covered about six miles.
I stopped at a junction in the road. The scene in front of me was stunning. There was still enough light to see the snow covered hills surrounding me. Bison being herded by cowboys on horseback wouldn’t have looked out of place.
I took a sip of water, turned on my torch and carried on with my icy hike. An hour later, I found out how wide the swarm that had cleared this path must have been.
A three foot high ridge of snow ran across the road and into the trees on both sides. I was disheartened, but also a little relieved. Images of me turning a corner and walking straight into the tail end of the swarm had been flashing through my mind. This particular swarm must have been about eight or nine miles wide, and fuck knows how long.
The tsunami swarm I saw at Silver Springs that night was probably about that size, if not bigger maybe. Was this just the same one, or were there loads of these giant swarms wandering around and taking over the whole country?
I really needed to go home.
I lifted my foot up high and stepped into the ridge of snow, starting the slow trudge through.
‘Joanne, Joanne, Joanne, Joanne…’ I stopped and stood still.
How long had I been repeating Jo’s name? I hadn’t even realised I’d been doing it. I must have snapped if I was talking to myself without my knowledge.
Maybe I was going snow crazy?
To be honest, I thought my heart would go before my brain gave up. I took one of the cheese sandwiches out and quickly ate it. It didn’t taste half as nice as the last one.
My smart watch only had nineteen percent battery left. That was another two days if I didn’t track any of my activities, which I wasn’t planning on doing.
I reckoned I had another four hours before the sun came up so I carried on, keeping my eyes open for somewhere to camp.
Another café would have been great.
The sun was coming up, and I was still fighting my way through the snow. I hadn’t seen another café, but about three hours earlier I’d found a toilet just off the road. It must have been the start of a trail or something. This enabled me to uphold my vow of only having a shit if there was a roof and four walls around me.
I was incredibly tired, amazed I was still standing. It was a real struggle to keep my weary eyes open.
I checked the road map to see how far I’d walked. I’d done about sixteen miles in thirteen hours.
Fucking hell, only a third of the way across. I really fucking hate snow.
I decided to camp right there, not bothering to clear away any snow, or even anchoring the coffin tent down. I just set it up on top and climbed in. My weight made it sink into the snow a couple of inches. The ground was unbelievably cold.
I dug out the pinot noir from my bag, but it turned out to be quite difficult to drink anythi
ng in a tent this size. I still managed though.
DAY THIRTEEN
It felt like I was slowly cooking in my sleeping bag. It had been freezing when I’d climbed in earlier, so I was surprised to be covered in more than a few layers of sweat. There was no way I could stay in this tent any longer, I needed some fresh air. It had just turned midday, so I’d slept for about six hours. That’s normally enough but my sleeping patterns were becoming a mess.
I’d thrown my clothes out of the tent after getting undressed, so I’d have to do a bit more shopping when I got the chance. I dressed in some dry clothes, pulled on my boots, and crawled outside to see the beautiful blue skies were back. The top layer of snow had melted under the sun.
Come on Chris, just one big push today and you should be through the worst of it. Hopefully.
Another cheese sandwich and half a packet of beef jerky wasn’t the ideal breakfast, but it was midday, so it passed off as a half decent lunch.
After I’d eaten, I packed everything up and reluctantly set off. As I was trudging through the snow, I remembered drinking the pinot noir after I’d zipped up my sleeping bag. It must have gone straight to my head, because I got quite emotional before falling asleep. The last thing I remembered was crying, while repeatedly apologising to Joanne for leaving her to go on holiday. That was after I’d apologised to Jack for leaving him in a bin. Maybe I should lay off the pinot noir for a while. I’ll just get some beer next time.
I had returned to chanting my mantra. ‘Lift left leg up, put left leg down, lift right leg up, put right leg down.’
It at least stopped my mind from wandering into some very depressing and suicidal thoughts.
I suddenly realised I wasn’t lifting my legs quite as high to get through the snow. I stopped to check the height against my legs. Yep, it was only up to my knees, definitely lower than before.
Less snow meant I should be going faster, so when I stopped for a break after two hours, I hoped I’d done a fair few miles. Just over four, that was much better. I was happy with that.